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(The Girl Next Door #1) The Girl Next Door
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One accidental pregnancy. One fake husband. What can go wrong?
There’s nothing like starting your Monday morning with a positive pregnancy test.
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CHAPTER ONE – IVY
Wet hair stuck between your thighs after a shower.
If you’d asked me the worst part about being a woman three weeks ago—hell, even three days ago—that would have been my answer.
Now, my answer was very different.
The three minutes it took for a pregnancy test to reach its determination about whether or not you were about to spend the next eight months incubating a tiny human?
Hands down the worst part about being a woman.
Not to mention the scariest. Peeing on that stick was simultaneously the most terrifying and most awkward thing I had ever done.
And the messiest.
Look, I wasn’t winning any awards for my aim with the pee, okay? My poor hand had been scrubbed red raw in the last sixty seconds, and I was sure as hell never going to yell at a man again for missing the toilet.
As long as he cleaned it up himself.
Needless to say that if I ever had to do this again, I was going to pee in a pot first. Less room for error and all that.
I checked the timer on my phone.
Ninety seconds left.
Then I could pull the pee stick from the top drawer of my bathroom dresser where I’d unceremoniously dumped it to stop me from torturing myself.
In reality, that hadn’t happened.
For one, I knew. You know how you get that gut feeling that tells you someone is an asshole? Or that the chicken is off? Or that your best friend really did steal your blusher and isn’t giving it back?
My period was two weeks late. My boobs were so tender they hurt when I looked at them, and I could smell a coffee from a mile away.
Speaking of that, I couldn’t stand the smell of coffee anymore.
So yeah, I knew. I knew what the test was going to say, and I had no idea what I was going to do about it.
Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t considering anything other than keeping the little alien who was almost certainly growing in my womb. I didn’t believe in anything else, and weirdly enough, that wasn’t the scariest part about this.
Nope. It would be telling my staunchly Catholic, Jesus-loving grandmother that I was pregnant. Unmarried. From a one-night stand.
That was going to go well.
Not to mention the fact I would have to tell my next-door neighbor that our drunken, one-time escapade a few weeks ago had knocked me up.
That was also not going to be fun. As far as I knew, Kai Connors had absolutely no intention of having children anytime soon. He’d spent weeks avoiding Amanda, a single mom in the building who had kids for no reason other than she had kids.
But that was fine. If he didn’t want kids, I would move and figure it out by myself.
I checked my phone again.
I had no idea how this had happened, either. Sure, we hadn’t used a condom because we’d been drunk and I’d assured him it was fine, but I never ever missed a pill. It never crossed my mind this would happen. I was OCD about taking my pill. I took it out every single morning when I brushed my teeth and took it immediately after, and I’d checked the package every single day for a week while I’d built the confidence up to take this pregnancy test.
All the days were clear. I’d taken it every day.
The day my grandmother was rushed to the ER. That was it. That was the day. She swore she was dying but it turned out she was constipated. I’d taken my pill out, but now that I thought about it, I had no recollection whatsoever of taking it.
It was so normal for me to do it that it’d never crossed my mind that I might have forgotten that I had not, in fact, taken it.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
It was all on me.
Kai was going to kill me.
I couldn’t not tell him. No matter what he did, he had the right to make a decision about what he wanted to do. But I also had to admit this was my fault. It was my mistake that had led to this.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe I’d been so damn stupid. I never should have said it was fine to do it without a condom. Such an idiot.
Really, by now, with our technology, it didn’t need to take three minutes for a pregnancy test to work its magic. Thirty seconds was all that was needed.
I ran my fingers through my hair and paced the length of my bathroom. I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn’t know the first thing about babies. I had no idea how to change diapers or breastfeed or how to stop little humans running into roads.